


How Far We've Fallen

by ChocolateChipMaster



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Angst With A Bittersweet Ending, Gen, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, It's just all in all a bad time, Monoworld doesn't exist, Near Death Experiences, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Why Did I Write This?, diD SOMEONE SAY NAEGI WHUMP???, no?, too bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 15:59:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18346937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateChipMaster/pseuds/ChocolateChipMaster
Summary: The doors to the academy slid open.Naegi expected carnage. He expected ruins, leveled skyscrapers, and skies as dark as blood. He would have been surprised if there weren’t already a few mobsters wearing Monokuma masks waiting for them at the gates.But as the doors slid open…It became very apparent that none of that was there at all.(AU in which the Monoworld doesn’t exist)





	How Far We've Fallen

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of a prompt I saw floating around in which the Monoworld isn't real and the survivors have to deal with that. 
> 
> Intended to be a one-shot, but I might continue based off the response this gets. 
> 
> This isn't beta-read, so all mistakes are on me. 
> 
> Enjoy!

When the button was pressed, Naegi did so with the utmost finality. There was trepidation and fear; so much of it that it was near suffocating, but Naegi held his ground. He wasn’t alone. He wasn’t going to _be_ alone out there. He had his friends: Fukawa, Hagakure, Asahina, Kirigiri, and even Togami. They were together. They would be okay.

The doors to the academy slid open.

Naegi expected carnage. He expected ruins, leveled skyscrapers, and skies as dark as blood. He would have been surprised if there weren’t already a few mobsters wearing Monokuma masks waiting for them at the gates.

But as the doors slid open…

It became very apparent that none of that was there at all.

In fact, what awaited the survivors was a clear blue sky and trees fluffy with leaves. The grounds of Hope’s Peak was not littered with bodies - it was littered with petals from the nearby flowerbeds. The city stood tall and proud, glass intact and azure sky dotted with fluffy clouds. The air was crisp and fresh, distinctly lacking any smoke or copper. And the street just beyond them…

Was _crowded._

Held at bay merely by a metal fence, Naegi was at first mildly afraid that these were the mobsters Enoshima had eluded to. There was _so many people._ The signs they all held spoke a different tale, however. Naegi read several with ‘Free the Students’ stamped across the front. Another read ‘We’re Rooting For You!’ and was wielded by a stout woman who was narrowing her eyes up at the top of the academy. Naegi followed her gaze to see the largest television monitor he’d ever seen. It was currently still, displaying nothing but static, but he was sure that just earlier it had been displaying their school life of mutual killing.

Naegi felt sick.

Togami breathed out shakily. “She lied.”

No one could find the strength to respond. There was nothing else to be said, after all. Naegi reached blindly for Kirigiri’s hand on his right and she took it, squeezing back as hard as she dared. Everything Enoshima had told them was a lie. The world at large was safe, spared from the carnage of despair that she’d promised. But why was this reality somehow worse than the Monoworld she’d described?

There was an uproar from the crowd. Someone had seen the open doors. Someone had seen _them._ Kirigiri’s grip tightened on Naegi’s hand. They began to swell against the metal barriers as policemen surged onto the field toward the group. They crowded around the survivors in a flurry of movement. A team swathed in full-body suits and bulletproof vests charged into the academy. The police began to surround them and there was a wall of cheers that rose up from the crowd of civilians watching with bated breath.

“What happened in there? Was everything on the screen real?” The police demanded, but Naegi didn’t have answers. He’d seen it all go down, but he was still in absolute _disbelief._ He half expected this all to be an enormous illusion - a last laugh from the late Enoshima Junko, but the more Naegi stared up at the sky, expecting it to flash blood red, the bluer it became.

_This was real._

And somehow, that was worse than the world of despair Enoshima had lovingly described.

(Naegi would later realize she’d done it on purpose. Whether she won or lost the final Class Trial made no difference, she’d still imprint the image of a broken world upon their minds. Whether they lived to call her bluff or died trying didn’t matter. They’d either die thinking their entire world had been destroyed or live knowing that she’d had the last hurrah. She’d revel in the thought of the kids she’d subjected to ceaseless despair realizing she’d lied time and time again and pushed them to the worst despair of all.)

Naegi’s knees began to tremble. He felt suddenly weak, pain flooding his entire left side. He stumbled against Kirigiri who caught him as the adrenaline rush he’d been under for the past _day_ finally faded into nothing. He was getting hit with a long-overdue wave of exhaustion and pain.

Almost immediately, the policemen panicked, demanding what was wrong with him and how they could ever _possibly_ help. Kirigiri pursed her lips but said nothing and paramedics were upon Naegi in a moment. They tried to drag him away but in a flash of panic, Naegi flung his arm out and seized Togami’s wrist. He read the panic in Naegi’s eyes - reflected in his own, though Togami would never admit it out loud - and glared up at the paramedics as he stepped closer.

“We stay together,” he said shortly. Without daring to question his authority, the paramedics nodded and allowed Kirigiri and Togami to step forward, letting him lean against them. Kirigiri extended her hand behind her for Asahina to hold onto, who grabbed onto Hagakure. Togami looked annoyed as Fukawa clung to his arm, but Naegi didn’t care. They were together for right now - in a world that was just as normal as the one that they’d left.

The only thing that had changed was each other.

The crowd was loud as they pressed up against the barrier set up as the survivors approached. Reporters fought their way to the surface, clicking their cameras with flashes that were almost too bright. People called out their names, a mixture of congratulations and well-wishes as Naegi stumbled against Kirigiri, his left leg collapsing from out underneath him.

“Naegi-chi!” Hagakure cried out.

“’m okay,” Naegi managed to say. His head was spinning. He was sure it probably had to do with the lack of sleep he’d gotten. He’d been up for a near full twenty-four hours now and it was taking its toll. Adrenaline was a hell of a natural drug. He murmured a quiet thanks to Kirigiri who hauled him back to his feet and into the awaiting arms of the paramedics.

They let him sit down on the lip of a truck and lifted his shirt to see the swathes of purple and blue bruises all up and down the left side of his ribcage.

“What happened?” They all asked.

“Fell,” Naegi said simply, unable to explain more. Unable to explain why he suddenly heard a distant _thump, thump, thump_ echoing behind him. Choosing to trust Kirigiri had been the single-most terrifying incident in his life, but Naegi would do it again in a heartbeat.

He looked up to meet her gaze as the paramedics rolled up his pant leg. Her expression was impassive as always, but Naegi had learned how to read her. Read the little bits of emotions hidden in her eyes that she couldn’t quite hide fully. This one Naegi could see clearly as he was familiar with it himself.

_Guilt._

She blamed herself for Naegi’s injuries. She was the one who accused him, who was willing to sacrifice him for the sake of self-preservation. But Naegi didn’t blame her. If there was one thing other than the hope he now embodied that he could believe in, it was Kirigiri.

He smiled at her as the paramedics took one look at his swelling leg and decided that it had probably been broken at worst, sprained at best.

She looked away.

Naegi was lifted into the air and pulled into the back of the ambulance. Without even hesitating, Togami following, taking a few steps into the bed of the truck and ignoring the paramedics trying to stop him. He sat next to Naegi, pursing his lips down at the bandages wrapped all around his middle. Kirigiri and Asahina followed, with Hagakure helping Fukawa in afterward.

The paramedics exchanged looks but did not force the students away from each other. Instead, the swung the heavy metal doors shut, muting the sound of the crowd around them.

Unconsciously, Naegi leaned into Hagakure on his left. He was utterly exhausted, eyes pained with the effort of keeping them open, but he was afraid of what he’d see when he’d close them. Would it be Maizono, slumped against the shower wall? Maybe Ishimaru, with blood matting strands of his hair together.

They rode in silence.

But their silence spoke more than words ever would.

 

They were hospitalized for three days.

During that time, Togami used his family’s assets to ensure the survivors were left in peace. Eventually, when their separation anxiety became too much to handle, the group ended up staying in Togami’s room to recover with each other.

Naegi was the last of them to released.

He walked with a limp, having refused the crutches the doctors offered him, and the worst of the bruising had turned yellow and green, but he was at least okay enough to leave. Kirigiri walked with him toward his family, who watched and waited for him expectantly. Komaru was crying. His dad looked more scared than Naegi had ever seen him. His mom had her hands cupped over her mouth.

“Thank you, Kirigiri-san,” he murmured softly to Kirigiri, who nodded and glanced at him as she went to reunite with her grandfather.

Naegi stood awkwardly in front of his family, unsure of what to say. What could he? There were so many words and yet none of them felt right. He couldn’t very well apologize for what had happened. None of it was his fault - he was just thrown into a sadistic game with a sadistic woman for a mastermind. None of them had known this was going to happen.

But it still didn’t change the fact that Naegi had no idea what to say.

And, from the looks of things, his family didn’t either.

But if there was one thing Naegi could rely on, it was his newfound talent. The optimism that had pulled him through every single day at the academy. Through every trial, every investigation, every dead body stained red. It would get him through this too. Naegi could break the ice all on his own.

He pulled his lips up into a smile - a ghost of the former one, a fraud compared to the ones he’d given his friends during that final trial, but it was the best he could muster after what had happened. Komaru’s breath hitched.

“Hi Mom, hi Dad,” he glanced at his sister. “Komaru.” He tilted his head, closing his eyes and pulling his lips up a little higher. “I’m home.”

His mother burst into tears.

 

Recovery was easier said than done.

Naegi’s therapist tried to tell him that acceptance was the first step to recovery, but Naegi found himself unable to. How could he accept their deaths? It was hard enough attending Maizono’s worldwide broadcasted funeral where he himself had delivered a speech talking about her bright smile that had brought him through every hard day in the academy. He talked about her personality, how it shone like the sun. He said nothing about her murder, how he was the one who had found her covered in blood and stabbed through the gut with a kitchen knife. How she was the one who had orchestrated the murder and intended to pin the crime on Naegi.

He said none of that.

And in the crowd, his friends - the other survivors - stared at him.

Kirigiri had handled the police and media. It was what she was used to, and she gave as much information as the other survivors told her to. None of their lives were private, especially in the killing school. It had been broadcasted worldwide - as Enoshima had claimed - and everyone knew every detail of every murder and every trial. Naegi had lost count of the number of times he’d been asked how he felt when Kirigiri gave him the ‘Ultimate Hope’ title. Of how many people had asked about the gruesome details of the executions. Naegi couldn’t blame them. They had seen an edited version, something through the screen of a television. Naegi had witnessed it firsthand. Had seen Celeste lift her head to the sky, hands clasped in prayer and her face serene as a fire engine roared toward her. How Oowada had vanished, turned into nothing but liquid before his very eyes.

But the question he got most, however, was _how was it like to be almost executed?_

Naegi hated that question the most because he could not answer. He couldn’t properly describe the gut-wrenching terror that gripped him with every _thunk_ of the weight behind him. The eerie giggle of Monokuma as he mindlessly taught Naegi a meaningless lesson. He’d never be able to describe that emotion that clenched his throat as he stared at his friends who’d knowingly convicted him. Who now thought him a murderer as Monokuma had confirmed it himself. Just to _get rid of him._ Him and his insufferable optimism.

It was the nightmare that kept Naegi from sleep most frequently. Most commonly, Alter Ego did not save him. He was crushed from the skull down, turned into nothing but a gory pile of blood and chunks of flesh. Other times he fell and kept falling until he realized that in this version, Kirigiri would not come for him. He’d be left down there, alone and scared until he died of starvation.

Naegi hated being asked that. His parents had once and Naegi fled to go throw up in the bathroom. They hadn’t asked since.

They’d seen the broadcast. They’d seen Naegi discover Maizono’s body, the guttural scream that had wrenched itself raw from deep within him. Naegi could only imagine what they were feeling. A fraction of the despair that had flooded him, but desperate and angry for sure. They had been against him going to Maizono’s public funeral simply because she’d tried to frame him, up to the very end. Naegi ignored them and had gone anyways.

The daunting process of recovery was hindered constantly.

Naegi seemed to cry a lot more recently. He tried to make it quiet, so his parents would not hear, but he knew Komaru did. He knew she pressed her forehead to the walls separating their bedrooms and wondered how she could help.

The others came by frequently. They were all coping in their different ways. Asahina had returned to swimming and had channeled all of her fear into that and went to frequent therapy sessions. Togami had the finest psychologists in the country come to help him with every nightmare. Fukawa was writing a book - a memoir of sorts - of all of their experiences in the academy. Kirigiri turned every inch of her focus into her detective studies with a renewed vigor to ensure what happened to them never happened to anyone else. Hagakure was re-enrolling in Hope’s Peak the following March, just so he could confront that demon before it overcame him.

Everyone had opened up about the deaths that had bothered them the most. Asahina had cried during a joint session where they discussed Oogami’s suicide. Togami’s stoic persona and Fukawa’s stutter had faltered when Fujisaki was brought up. Hagakure looked like he might be sick when their therapist mentioned Ishimaru and Yamada. Kirigiri tapped her finger on her thigh in a nervous tick when Ikusaba’s murder was the topic of discussion.

Everyone’s gaze shot to Naegi when their therapist brought up Maizono.

Naegi didn’t look up at anyone. He couldn’t explain how badly Maizono affected him, even now. After all, he couldn’t very well explain that the walls of the bathroom had turned red with splattered blood and that haunting number - _11037 (L-E-O-N,_ his brain echoed) - was scrawled everywhere.

He was silent all throughout the discussion. The therapist tried to bring Naegi to talk, tried to bring up how close he and Maizono were, but Naegi pursed his lips and kept his mouth shut. He was afraid of what would come out if he spoke. Perhaps some ridiculous withheld emotion of the betrayal Naegi had felt wrack him to his very core. A burst of emotion with tears springing desperately to his eyes as he admitted how _hurt_ he’d felt upon learning the truth. Maizono had tried to frame him for murder for sake of getting out and leaving the rest of them to die. Naegi would never get over that.

He didn’t hate Maizono. He could never hate her. She’d been desperate and scared. Naegi understood that more than most people realized. He’d kept his motives to himself, but he had felt the raw desperation at wanting - _needing_ \- to know the fates of his families. Of keeping his most treasured secret hidden from the others. He’d understood that. But he’d had something that no one else did. His optimism. That unwavering belief that everything was going to be okay. That they’d escape that hellish school. That he’d see his family again. That one day, he’d be able to face his friends and tell them the truth. That was what had pulled him through every day. That was the difference between him and Maizono.

So when the therapist pressed Naegi, trying to make him talk, he stood up and left the room. No one chased him. He hid in the bathroom and cried, choking on sobs as he kept his head tucked in between his legs. He knew that if he lifted his head, he’d see Maizono regarding him over a bloody knife. He’d see _11037_ stamped across every surface. He’d see Fujisaki, crucified on the opposite wall.

It was Hagakure who came for him at last. Who wrapped his arms around Naegi and pulled him close. Silently supporting Naegi’s hope with his own - the belief that Naegi would be okay. That he would overcome the demons that plagued him. That one day they would all stop seeing the victims in their lives and confine them only to terrible dreams that plagued them only occasionally.

Naegi clung to that hope. And he cried.

 

“Naegi-kun, are you taking your sleeping pills?”

“Huh?”

Naegi paused, picking at his sock. Kirigiri’s voice crackled in the receiver of the phone held to his ear. She sighed.

“Your _sleeping_ pills, Naegi-kun,” Kirigiri said again. “Are you _taking_ them?”

Naegi paused. He had _not_ been taking them, but surely Kirigiri’s detective analyzing could not figure that out over the phone.

“Yeah,” he lied.

Naegi was immediately proven wrong. He could practically _feel_ Kirigiri’s skepticism through the phone.

“Okay, no,” he conceded. Kirigiri huffed. “But I just...” He leaned back and closed his eyes. Kuwata’s body, swollen and bruised from the countless softballs that had been lobbed at him, was painted on the back of his eyelids. One of Kuwata’s eyes was open, bloodshot and stained with unshed tears. “I don’t want to sleep,” he finished at last. He didn’t have to say why - he knew Kirigiri would understand. She sighed.

“Naegi-kun, you have to find some way to cope,” Kirigiri said. “The rest of us are all re-enrolling into Hope’s Peak with Hagakure-kun. You should join us.”

Naegi, who’d grown a very strict phobia of Hope’s Peak in the few weeks that they’d been out, thought that was a very poor idea. “I don’t know...”

“You can’t avoid it forever,” Kirigiri said a matter-of-factly. “Either we confront it or let it haunt us the rest of our lives.”

Naegi opened his mouth to protest. He was sure entering the academy was the single most horrifying thing that he could ever do to himself. Every hallway was stained, _tainted_ with the blood of their classmates. Not the same building, but the same idea of _talent_ that the old one encompassed.

“Naegi-kun,” Kirigiri said in his silence.

“But...I don’t have any talent,” Naegi said barely above a whisper. Kirigiri snorted softly.

“If I may use your own words, that’s wrong,” she said. “You’re Hope. The whole world has accepted that. I won’t be surprised if an offer shows up when the semester starts.”

Naegi did not answer. He pulled at a piece of lint, eyebrows furrowed in thought. Returning to Hope’s Peak sounded like a nightmare he did not want to relive. Classmates, desperate for escape, desperate to _live_ , turning against each other in a deadly dance of murder. Despite Enoshima’s claim about the Monoworld being a lie, those classmates had still died in those halls. Classmates that he’d gotten to know, had forgotten about, and learned about once again.

Naegi gave a pause.

_His memories._

They were the only thing that was missing, now. His memories of those two years at Hope’s Peak. Of all the times he’d shared with the classmates that had died. They were _gone._

Weren’t they?

“Do...” Naegi swallowed. If there was anyone who had a theory on what happened, it was Kirigiri. “Do you think Enoshima-san really _did_ take our memories? Did we ever _go_ to Hope’s Peak?”

It took Kirigiri far too long to answer. Naegi’s stomach twisted into knots.

“Yes,” she said finally. It was not the answer Naegi had been hoping for. “There’s no doubt about it. We’re all in the school’s database. And, according to the police, Enoshima had sources all over the school to help her plan this. One of those was...the Super High School Level Neurologist. If anyone would be able to alter our memories...it would be him.”

“Oh...” Naegi whispered. His voice was small.

“But,” Kirigiri’s voice was laced with false hope. “What can be taken away can also be given back. I’m sure we can regain our memories. Somehow.”

Somehow, Naegi wasn’t very comforted.

“I hope so,” he said, the words tainting his tongue. Kirigiri sighed softly. Naegi tried to imagine what she looked like right now - in purple pajamas, cold eyes softened in concern.

“Just think about it,” she said.

“I will,” Naegi promised. “I’ll...see you soon?”

“You will,” Kirigiri affirmed. “Remember to take your sleeping medication.”

“You too, Kirigiri-san,” Naegi said. She made a soft scoffing noise (Naegi chose to interpret it as _‘have I ever forgotten?’)_ and the line clicked and went dead. Naegi let his phone fall into his lap.

He and Kirigiri had never needed formalities to know when the conversation was over and when it was time to hang up. She found it archaic and inconvenient while he didn’t mind either way. Such formalities were normal for him, and if he had to become used to another method, so be it. He didn’t mind in the slightest.

But still, in moments of weakness such as these, he could have at least gone for a little ‘goodbye’.

 

Naegi did not take his sleeping pills.

Or, rather, he did not sleep at all.

It was five AM when he finally managed to doze, and when he did his rest was fitful at best. As soon as he shut his eyes, he saw Oogami with her head bowed over her chair. She raised her bloodshot eyes to stare at him. Blood trickled down the side of her mouth.

 _Naegi,_ she spoke. _Wake up._

Blood slithered in between her teeth and poured out of her mouth. Monokuma’s taunting laughter merged into Enoshima, who appeared alongside Ikusaba, in her disguise. The two of them were alarmingly similar.

“Naegi-kun,” they spoke in perfect unison. “Wake up.”

And Naegi did.

He shot up in bed, gasping for air. His heart pounded against his ribcage.

It had been thirty minutes since he dozed.

It appeared even his dreams did not want him to fall asleep.

Naegi remembered the blood caked on Oogami’s lips and his whole body was _wracked_ with a sob of epic proportions. He wrapped his arms around himself and let himself cry. He tried to muffle the sobs as best his could, wailing into his knees.

Even weeks after they’d escaped, it still hurt _so much._

Finally, Naegi became aware of his ringing phone. It must have been what roused him from his fitful dozing (Oogami’s bloody lips and Enoshima and Ikusaba’s bloody forms taunted him in the back of his mind) and for that, he was somewhat grateful. His own subconscious rising from the depths to tell him to wake up - a tragically despairful start to the day for an Ultimate Hope.

Naegi lifted his phone to his ear. “Hello?” His voice was congested. He hoped whoever was on the other end merely mistook it for sleep.

“Naegi,” a cold, analytical voice on the other end. Naegi recognized it instantly.

“Ah,” he rubbed at his eyes. “Togami-kun. What’s wrong?”

“I am en route to your house,” Togami said. “Be ready to leave.”

Naegi took a look at the time. It was forty minutes past five, hardly a time to be out and about. But. whatever Togami wanted he got, which was only enforced by his prestigious family as soon as he’d escaped Hope’s Peak’s hold. They doted over him, giving him only the finest recovery resources available. And, if Togami wanted to see Naegi, he got what he wanted.

There was no sense in making Togami wait. He hung up as soon as Naegi affirmed what he had wanted and left Naegi to wander over to his closet in a daze. He was trembling and probably desperately needed a shower, but he was too scared to step foot inside. Instead, he peeled off his pajamas, threw on semi-clean black jeans and socks, and shoved his sneakers over his freezing toes. His shirt he left and merely threw his hoodie over it. The blazer was left forgotten on the back of his chair.

Naegi saw the headlights of Togami’s limo through his bedroom window. He was out the door after leaving a note to his family and took his phone with him. Closing the door behind him, Naegi made his way over to the car.

A butler opened the door as he approached, bowing low. Naegi thanked him with all the courtesy of a scared deer and bent down to sit into the car. Across from him in the seat, Togami sat with his arms folded across his chest and legs crossed. His glasses were a bit lopsided and his hair was far from the normally tamed style it was in. There were bags under his eyes. Naegi decided not to mention any of this to him.

“Togami-kun,” he greeted with a tiny smile.

“Naegi,” Togami said in response.

“What’s...all this about? And so early?”

Togami scoffed. “Don’t pretend like you were asleep.”

Naegi paused. He’d tried to make it look like he hadn’t just had a desperate cry, but evidently, it hadn’t worked. Togami saw through his facade.

And yet, Naegi kept smiling. Another testament to his truly endless optimism. His endless _Hope._ He nodded. “That’s true.”

Togami turned his head toward the door. Naegi took a moment to realize his friend's outfit was disheveled and wrinkled in several spots. He would not be surprised if Togami would order him to be assassinated if he so much as pointed a single fold out in his clothes. Once again, Naegi kept Togami’s unkempt appearance to himself. Clearly, the heir was not as pulled together as he had led everyone to believe.

“We are meeting up with the others,” Togami said. “Asahina’s idea. She thought it would be nice for us all to reunite and view the sunrise together. I volunteered to get you. You were on the way.”

Naegi knew for a fact that he was _not_ out of the way. In fact, he had to have been the farthest from Togami. However, he had an inkling it had to do with what Togami was struggling through. Naegi was a beacon of Hope for the survivors and for himself. His presence was grounding to them. Reminded them of a future that wasn’t tainted by Enoshima’s sins. Togami probably needed that right now.

They all did.

“I see,” Naegi said. He couldn’t seem to sit still. The limousine was far too imposing for him. Too strange, too fancy. Too cramped, too small. Too reminiscent of hallways stained with blood.

Naegi could see Fujisaki crucifixed on the window. He wondered if Togami could see him too.

The image made Naegi’s throat clench. Made bile rise in his throat.

“Togami-kun,” he said through his teeth. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. “Could...we roll down the windows?”

Togami looked at him, read his expression and did as Naegi had asked. With the rush of cold morning air came in a clear mind. Fujisaki flickered like bad television reception and vanished. Now, all Naegi could see were the stars from the sky outside. The sun hadn’t started to rise yet.

Togami kept the windows down even when they turned onto the freeway. The wind whipped their hair around, making Naegi’s fluffier than usual and turning Togami’s into a untamable mess. He did not make a move to fix it.

They pulled into a park as the first rays of light were gracing the sky.

Togami made a show of fixing his hair before stepping out of the door the butler had opened. Naegi followed suit, glad to be free of the stuffy car.

“We shouldn’t be long,” Togami told the butler. “Wait.”

The butler nodded and gave his master a smile and turned it to Naegi. Naegi returned it hesitantly and turned his gaze to the park.

It was one that was endlessly popular during the day. Or at least, Naegi remembered it being. He and Komaru had spent hours here together, trying to skip rocks over the enormous lake that spanned miles. They used to go canoeing and Naegi’s luck had gotten them thrown into the water more than once.

The memories were bittersweet at best.

Togami strolled towards the gates and pushed them open. They could see the picnic area from here and with it, Naegi could see Hagakure’s dreadlocks. Untameable as ever, they stood out next to Kirigiri’s long locks, Fukawa’s stringy hair, and Asahina’s up-do.

Naegi smiled bitterly. How long had had it been since they’d met up casually like this? It had to have been during their time trapped in Hope’s Peak. Those days where things were calm and Monokuma’s next motive was still a world away. When they’d meet up with everyone in the dining hall and let themselves be the children they knew they were.

Naegi’s stomach clenched. He remembered Maizono’s radiant smile. Kuwata’s raucous laughter. Fujisaki’s tiny smiles. Oowada’s outbursts. Ishimaru’s reprimands for them to lower their voices. Yamada excitedly showing anyone who would listen one of his many mangas. Celeste’s patient smile as she chose to observe rather than listen. Oogami standing off to the side like a guard, arms folded with a smile. Enoshima - no, _Ikusaba’s_ \- bubbly attitude as she tried to matchmake everyone.

Then Naegi remembered their bodies and felt like throwing up.

“Hey, there they are!” Asahina lifted her hand. “Togami-kun! Naegi-kun! Over here!”

Naegi followed behind Togami, lifting his lips into a smile. Despite all the despair they had been forced to go through and were still battling, the sight of all of them coming together once again was nice. In a world that was just as normal as the one they had left behind two years ago.

So many questions remained. Why did they lock themselves away if the Tragedy wasn’t real? Why had Enoshima lied? What was she really trying to accomplish by forcing them to kill each other?

Naegi pushed the thoughts to the side. Thoughts for another day. Right now, it was time for him to be a kid again.

“Man, I thought you guys weren’t gonna make it in time,” Hagakure crowed.

“Hurry, hurry! The sun’s about to rise!” Asahina shouted. Naegi sped up his pace and passed Togami’s stride in order to meet them. He wouldn’t miss a brilliant sunrise over a peaceful lake with his best friends for the world.  

“Sorry, Asahina-san,” he said. “We didn’t mean to be late.” Asahina waved him off with a grin. Kirigiri patted the spot beside her and Naegi didn’t hesitate to sit down. Hagakure handed him a cup of a steaming green liquid.

“Herbal drink,” Hagakure explained. “Supposed to calm you or something. I don’t know about all that occult crap, but it works.”

Fukawa sighed exasperatedly. “Aren’t you _a-always_ saying you don’t w-want anything to do with t-the occult?”

Hagakure looked insulted. “It’s not occult if it does good things for you!”

“T-That doesn’t even make s-sense,” Fukawa snapped exasperatedly. There was no reasoning with him, but she tried anyways.

As the two bickered back and forth, Naegi took in a moment to take in his classmates. He hadn’t seen them since their last therapy session, but that was when they were forced to look presentable to make it seem like they were doing better than they actually were. With each other, there was no reason to pretend.

Fukawa’s hair was greasy, like she hadn’t bathed in days. She smelled like it, too. Her glasses were smudged in several places (Naegi wondered how she could even see) and the bags under her eyes were worse than anyone’s. Her clothing was mismatched, like she’d pulled things out of her closet at random and thrown them on without looking at what they were. Naegi didn’t think bright green yoga pants coupled with a black hoodie was a very good look but granted, Fukawa had always been a bit odd.

Hagakure was much the same. His dreadlocks were wilder than usual and he smelled heavily of cigarette smoke. His clothes were baggy and hardly fit him, pants sagging halfway down his hips. He also had the bags Fukawa and Togami did and his skin was clinging to his frame. He looked sallow and sunken up close. Nothing like the facade Naegi had seen from afar.

Asahina, unlike Togami (who had sat himself on the other side of the picnic table, behind Kirigiri and Naegi) looked reasonably well off. She wore her regular red track jacket and tank top, but had forgoned the shorts for a pair of some comfy-looking sweatpants. However, it didn’t take much for Naegi to see the bags under her eyes. The mess of hair that was her updo. The absence of the makeup that did little to hide how gaunt she was looking.

Beside him, Kirigiri looked composed. Her expression was neutral, lips pressed into a fine line and her hands unmoving in her lap. However, Naegi knew her well. He saw the sag in her shoulders, the bags she tried to hide with foundation under her eyes, and the way her necktie was ever so slightly to the right. Normally, Kirigiri was the epitome of composed but right now, she was much the opposite.

Naegi didn’t blame her. He hadn’t looked in the mirror before he left (he was too afraid to go in the bathroom, knowing Maizono’s body would be sitting in the bathtub waiting for him) but he knew he had bags like the others. That he looked just as messy and unkempt. That his hair was saggy and greasy, instead of soft and fluffy as it always was.

They were a mess.

But they were together.

Fukawa threw up her hands, evidently giving up on her fruitless argument with Hagakure. Instead, she stalked away to none-too-discreetly take a seat next to Togami. He didn’t bother to try to hide the way he scooted away from her.

“You stink,” he told her, turning his nose up.

“I-I stink?” Something akin to delight spread across Fukawa’s face. Naegi was reminded once again of how _odd_ she was. “M-Master...I-I’m sorry! I-I’ll do better! I’ll e-even jump in the l-lake if you want me to!”

“Then you’d be sopping wet and smell like a wet dog,” Togami told her. “Now be silent.”

Fukawa pressed both her hands over her mouth. A tiny squeak escaped from in-between her fingers. It was probably supposed to be words, but to her, Togami’s word was law. If he told her to be quiet, she would.

Naegi turned away from them to look over the lake. The stars twinkled above it, reflecting in the pool. The pavillion overhead blocked much of the view, but Naegi was content to just sit there and see what he could with his friends.

“Hey, Kirigiri-san,” he said after a moment. Kirigiri inclined her head to indicate she was listening. Naegi turned to watch Asahina bustle over to a shopping bag to pull a box out from inside. “Did you take your sleeping pills?”

Kirigiri huffed, clearly amused. “Did you?”

Naegi smiled with a shrug. “I guess we’re both bad at taking them, huh?”

Kirigiri’s lips twitched, but she did not smile. Naegi was sure that was the best he was going to get out of her.

“Make way, make way!” The excitement in Asahina’s voice was tangible as she bumped Hagakure out of the way with her hip. He yelped, nearly spilling his own cup of herbal tea. Naegi was suddenly reminded of the presence of his own, sitting between his hands. “Donuts, coming through!” Asahina placed the box down delicately and with a dramatic flourish of one showing the finest of cuisines, she lifted the lid.

Naegi peeked inside. He could see every flavor imaginable. Both Hagakure and Fukawa eyed the same pink frosting coated donut. Asahina beamed.

“Don’t worry, I have two more boxes,” she said. “Eat as many as you want!”

“Thank you, Asahina-chii!” Hagakure lunged for the donut. Fukawa didn’t move or berate him, but she did shoot him a hearty glare.

Togami leaned over to look into the box. He scoffed. “ _That_ is what you call donuts?”

“Well, _duh,”_ Asahina planted her hands on her hips. “What, you think you can do better?”

Togami pulled his phone out of his pocket and waved it, nearly hitting Fukawa in the nose as she scooted closer him. Stars practically sparkled in her eyes; she was delighted that he had almost hit her with a heavy-looking phone.

“Of course,” if Togami noticed he’d almost clonked Fukawa in the nose, he didn’t indicate it. “I can call a top-tier chef and have them deliver the finest donuts in under thirty minutes.”

“Togami-kun that’d be-” Asahina’s mouth dropped open. She reeled back and restrained herself. “Nah, it’s probably too early for them to be cooking. I bought these last night when I came up with this idea.”

“Awake or asleep, it is of no consequence,” Togami said dryly. “If I request something of a top chef, they will deliver. It is their civic duty.”

Fukawa murmured something into her hands.

“Nah, dude, these will work fine,” Hagakure was reaching for a second donut. “They taste great to me!”

“Hey!” Asahina slapped his hand. “No seconds until everyone’s got one.” She turned a beaming smile to Naegi. “Naegi-kun, which one do you want?”

Naegi, suddenly very aware that his tastes were likely very plain compared to the ones around him, paused. He was still a very ordinary kid who liked the ordinary things. He drummed his fingers around the warm cup in his hands and smiled meekly.

“Just a glazed one, I guess,” Naegi said.

“Good choice,” Asahina praised. She picked one out of the box and extended her arm. The donut hung limp from her fingers. “Here, the biggest glazed one in the box. Enjoy!”

“Ah...thank you,” Naegi put his drink to the side and took the donut. His hands immediately felt sticky and he wished he’d asked for a napkin.

Asahina proceeded to hand out donuts to the others as well, save for Hagakure who she glared at until she passed Togami his requested jelly-filled. It was no surprised Fukawa gestured wildly to the same one, still not allowed to speak. It was only then that Hagakure was able to lunge at another frosted donut he’d had his eye on. He turned around to stare across the water. The mountain range was now painted with hues of red and orange. The sun was due to begin rising any minute now.

Asahina seemed to realize this and sat herself down next to Naegi. She beamed at him (Naegi did not hesitate to think it was genuine) and started to lick frosting off her fingers. Hagakure all but collapsed next to Asahina. Behind them, Togami made a soft scoffing noise but they all knew that he was glad to be here with them as they were with him. Fukawa made spluttering noises.

“Hey,” Kirigiri said quietly. She wasn’t looking at them when they craned their heads to stare at her. “I’m...glad we could do this this morning.”

“Of course,” Asahina said with a grin. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. And...” Her smile turned bittersweet and she turned towards the blazing sun rising over the mountaintop so no one could see how wet her eyes became. But Naegi saw. He saw, even if no one else did. “I like to think Sakura-chan and everyone else are here with us too.”

Naegi closed his eyes to imagine it. If he tried hard enough, he could distantly hear an echo of Kuwata’s laugh. Fujisaki's meek whisper. Oogami’s comforting deep tones.

Kirigiri placed her hand over his. Naegi turned to look at her, her glove warm against his skin. She gave him a small smile that he almost missed. But he didn’t.

“What matters is that we’re here together,” she said. “Right?”

Naegi nodded. “Hope moves forward. We’re here today to prove that the others didn’t die in vain. We’ll be okay.” He reached over to put his hand on Asahina’s shoulder. “All of us.”

The sun emerged over the mountain in a burst of light. It shrouded the survivors in light, lit up the lake, and filled them with hope. Naegi let it flood him, because it was the best he’d felt in weeks. Since their escape from the academy, it had been nonstop despair, a struggle just to get through every day without breaking down. But here, with the others, with his _friends,_ Naegi didn’t feel alone anymore. He felt hopeful.

Or rather, more than usual.

They sat there in silence for a long time. The sun washed over them, warming Naegi’s cheeks as he sat there and basked in it. In his trance, he reached for the herbal drink Hagakure had given him and took a sip.

And choked.

The oddest mixture of spinach, sugar, and tea-leaves assaulted every one of his senses. He swallowed without thinking and his throat began to burn.

“Naegi?” Asahina reached for him as Naegi retched, trying to get the taste off his tongue.

“Hagakure-kun,” he spluttered. His eyes were watering. “What is _in_ this?!”

“Dunno,” Hagakure said. “Bought it off a vendor before I came here. Could be laced with something odd for all I know.” He panicked. “Is it?!”

Naegi didn’t think there was anything wrong with the drink other than the flavor. Especially since Kirigiri took the cup from him and sniffed it, gaining her reluctant stamp of approval. The taste, however, didn’t go away. Naegi took the biggest bite of the donut he could fit in his mouth but it failed to chase the spinach away.

“It’s your own fault,” Togami said. “You should have known taking anything from him is like signing your own death warrant.”

Naegi chose not to respond as Fukawa nodded vehemently in agreement. He coughed again, his hand placed squarely over his chest.

“Jeez, man!” Hagakure glared at Togami. “At least have a little tact, y’know? I do good things for this group!”

“If by ‘good things’ you mean telling us tall tales of a future none of us are going to live, then sure,” Togami said flippantly.

“Guys,” Asahina reprimanded.

“Here,” Kirigiri handed Naegi a gracious cup of water. He had no idea where she got it from, but the water fountain a few paces away gave him an idea. He gratefully downed it.

“Thank you, Kirigiri-san,” he said. The taste still burned at the back of his throat. Kirigiri chose to give him a small smile rather than respond. Hagakure frowned down at his own cup and sniffed it experimentally, then promptly decided to down his own cup. He made a face.

“Yup, there’s something bad in there.”

“Why on _Earth-”_ Kirigiri put her hand on her forehead. “You know what? Nevermind.”

Fukawa made a few noises of disgust into her hands. Asahina turned her head to frown at her and Togami.

“You can speak, you know,” she said. “You don’t always have to listen to what Togami-kun tells you to do.”

Fukawa’s eyes widened almost comically and she shook her head furiously. The thought had likely never crossed her mind. Togami scoffed and crossed his legs and arms simultaneously. Naegi couldn’t help but think he looked remarkably like a pretzel; all wound up in weird directions.

“If I allow her to speak she’d only just run her mouth,” he snapped. “And we all wouldn’t want that.”

Asahina fixed him with a furious glare. “Fukawa-chan is a _person,_ Togami-kun. She has feelings and deserves to express them.”

Togami rolled his eyes but did get Asahina’s unspoken point. He waved his hand idly in Fukawa’s direction, refusing to look at her. “You may speak.”

Fukawa dropped her hands to her lap. The first noise she made was a loud sigh that was near deafening in the quiet morning.

“G-Giving me p-permission to speak,” Fukawa said. “I-I couldn’t be m-more honored!”

“You don’t have to listen to him, Fukawa-chan,” Asahina tried. “He’s a jerk.” Almost instantly, Fukawa turned a furious glare onto her.

“H-How dare you talk about M-Master like t-that!” She said. “He and I are g-going to have a f-future together, you’ll see!”

“Over my dead body,” said Togami. He then seemed to gather just who he had spoken that to and eyed Fukawa warily. “...hopefully not in such a literal sense.”

“I would n-never let _her_ kill you,” Fukawa promised. Nobody was quite sure how much they believed her.

Naegi turned back to the lake. Light sparkled on the surface (he ignored how it looked a little green) and there was a distant chirp of birds rising with the sun. It was a different experience entirely to watch the world wake up rather than waking up after it had been up for awhile. He enjoyed it.

 _We should do this more often,_ he thought. He hadn’t even realized he’d said the words out loud until Kirigiri hummed in agreement next to him.

“We should,” she agreed. She turned her gaze to him and Naegi couldn’t help but feel like he was being observed under a microscope. Or, in Kirigiri’s case, a magnifying glass. He imagined her holding one up to her eye with her nose pressed to the ground and the image was surprisingly realistic. “Naegi-kun, are you taking care of yourself?”

The question gave him pause. Unsure of how to answer, he deliberated over what kind of response he could give. He could lie and tell her he was because he hadn’t done laundry since their escape two weeks ago. He’d hardly showered, sparsely eaten, and didn’t sleep. But, at the very least, he was going to the group therapy sessions and that had to account to something.

“Kind...of?” Naegi compromised with a half-truth. He _did_ talk to his parents when he needed to and being with his friends was a good buffer to the memories he’d rather forget about. He’d hardly thought about Hope’s Peak and what had happened there while he’d been with them.

“Kind of?” Kirigiri pressed. Her eyebrow was raised in typical ‘You’re Not Telling Me Everything’ fashion.

“I..uh...still don’t have a therapist,” Naegi admitted. “And...I’m not sleeping well, but neither are any the rest of us. And...” he trailed off. His throat felt tight with shame. “I still can’t go into bathrooms.” He turned his head away so he didn’t have to see the way Kirigiri’s eyebrow practically rose into her hair. “But other than that I... _think_ I’m okay.”

“That’s not okay,” Kirigiri said bluntly. Naegi winced. He could always count on her to not beat around the bush or sugar-coat things that needed to be said. It was a defining trait of her’s during Class Trials-

Naegi’s mind ground to a halt. He kept his expression impressively blank.

He was _not_ going to think about that right now. Not when things were finally looking up. Not when he finally felt reasonably okay.

“It’s...not?” He feigned ignorance and gave Kirigiri a weak smile.

“Of course not,” she said. “I would’ve hoped you’d see that.” She was worrying her bottom lip. A habit Naegi knew she only used when particularly stressed. “You can ask Togami-kun to set you up with a therapist-”

“He couldn’t possibly afford any of my therapists,” Togami said, forcibly interjecting himself into the conversation. He turned a cold gaze to Naegi and his eyes softened considerably. “However, if you really are desperate, I am sure I can persuade them to give you a...commoner’s discount.”

Naegi was all too used to Togami referring to him as a ‘commoner’. “No thanks, Togami-kun. I think I’ll be okay without one of your fancy therapists.”

“Naegi-kun,” Kirigiri said sharply.  Naegi sank into his hoodie. “None of what you just told me is okay. You _need_ help. All of us have gotten some. Talk to your parents. Maybe they can set something up.”

“Guys, really,” Naegi turned his head to look out over the lake. “I’m okay.”

He didn’t mention how he could see Kuwata in the center of the lake, bound with metal and swollen eyes wide and unseeing.

Naegi wasn’t sure if they could see him too.

 

“Did you know they’re tearing the school down?”

Naegi jerked violently, nearly dropping his fork with a loud clatter. It had been the first time since his escape that he’d gone out to eat something not during a mealtime and Komaru had decided to sneak up on him. For a moment, Naegi almost believed he was back at Hope’s Peak with Oowada at his back. The biker did always have a habit of sneaking up on people.

Naegi wondered if he employed that tactic to kill Fujisaki.

 _Stop stop stop_ he told his brain, missing the way Komaru’s expression softened in concern. His grip was tight on his ramen noodle cup.

“Sorry,” Komaru said anxiously. “You okay, Makoto?”

“Y-Yeah,” Naegi very purposefully avoided looking to the left. He was almost positive that Ikusaba was lying on the floor, glassy eyes turned to stare at him. “What were you saying?”

“They’re tearing the old Hope’s Peak building down,” Komaru repeated. “The one where you were...y’know.” She bit her lip, staring at a spot just over Naegi’s head. “They’re turning it into a memorial for the ones that died.”

Naegi startled.

The news should have made him happy. It should have made him cheer, throw his hands into the air, because finally, _finally_ that stain upon his past was going away. He wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. He’d imagine Hope’s Peak and instead of blood-stained corridors he’d think about a pile of rubble.

But honestly?

It just left a sour taste in Naegi’s mouth. He felt sick.

“Oh,” was all he could say.

“Aren’t you happy?” Komaru asked, parroting the thoughts running through Naegi’s mind. “The building that trapped you for six months is finally getting torn down.”

Naegi froze.

There was something very wrong with what she had just said.

“S-Six months?” Naegi furrowed his eyebrows. “I thought...two years...”

“What?” Komaru frowned. “No, you were in there for six months and the Killing Game only started within the last few.”

“That can’t be right,” Naegi said. His head was spinning. Enoshima had claimed that she’d stolen _two years_ worth of memories. One year at Hope’s Peak, one year inside of the school to hide from a Tragedy of her imagination. Though, she had lied about the Monoworld. There was no reason to not believe that she hadn’t lied about that, either.

“No, I’m sure it was six months,” Komaru insisted. “I...I counted every day.”

Naegi didn’t have time to acknowledge the rush of emotion that swelled inside him at Komaru’s confession. He was too distraught to really understand anything that followed. So much had been unloaded onto his shoulders at once. As well-meaning as Komaru was, he could feel himself beginning to shut down. He turned around, put his cup of noodles on the counter and leaned forward.

He tried to think.

But it appeared Naegi didn’t want to anymore.

His parents found him like that later when they came home from work; bowed over a cup of ramen that had long since gone cold.

 

Naegi tried to call Kirigiri that night. He left her what felt like a thousand text messages, begging her to respond, that he had something very important he had to talk to her about, but she was either ignoring him or...

Naegi glanced at the clock.

Well, it _was_ almost two in the morning. Maybe she was finally getting some well-deserved sleep.

But Naegi couldn’t stop thinking. He’d managed to take a shower with his eyes closed the whole time, just thinking. It distracted him from the thoughts of Maizono with a knife in her gut that was surely waiting for him when he finally opened his eyes. Instead, he thought about Enoshima. Everything she’d told them during the final Trial.

The Monoworld was a lie. And, clearly, so was taking two years worth of memories. Kirigiri had said there was no doubt that they’d been at Hope’s Peak for at least a year, and if Komaru said that he had been locked inside Hope’s Peak for six months...

Enoshima’s lies and the information he was getting fed outside of her grip was so contradictory it was head-spinning.

Naegi let out a sigh. He hadn’t dried his hair properly and it was dripping all over his clothes and his bedspread. He didn’t really care much. He needed another survivor to talk to. Someone that wasn’t Hagakure ( _hey naegi-chii, are u sure you dont want to get ur fortune read? ill give u a discount)_ and was willing to listen.

As if in answer, his phone began to ring.

Asahina’s name was emblazoned on the screen. Naegi’s heart soared. Asahina had a good head on her shoulders. He could talk to her.

He realized almost instantly when he picked up the phone that it wasn’t going to happen tonight.

Asahina was crying.

Naegi froze. “Asahina-san?”

Asahina hiccuped through an incoherent sentence and then was overcome by a powerful sob. Naegi’s chest hurt on her behalf.

“Asahina-san, what’s wrong?” He asked gently. This time, he got some semblance of a response.

“N-Naegi-kun...” her voice was hoarse. Naegi wondered how long she had been crying for. “S-Sakura-chan...she-she was-”

“What about her?” Naegi asked. He was afraid to know the answer. Asahina cried harder.

“Sh-She was _alive_ and she was _blaming_ me for what happened-” she gasped sharply to draw in air into her lungs. Her breath stuttered. “I tried to _k-kill_ you guys. She _hated_ me for that.”

“Oogami-san would never hate you,” Naegi said. “She would forgive you. Like you did when we found out she was working with Monokuma.”

“B-But-” Asahina spluttered. She was getting increasingly hard to understand. “I t-tried to kill you guys. A-And in my dream I _did._ I watched you all _die_ and S-Sakura-chan...” she wailed loudly. “I _knew_ she hated me! Just from the look in her eyes.”

Naegi had the phone up to his ear and was listening, but he didn’t feel present. Asahina’s words made him feel a cold dread. She’d dreamed she’d managed to execute everyone.

Execution.

_Thump._

Naegi swallowed.

_Thump._

The block rose and fell behind him.

_Thump._

Naegi squeezed his eyes shut. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to ground himself. Asahina needed him. This wasn’t the time for a relapse.

With herculean effort, Naegi pulled himself into the present. Asahina’s crying became more pronounced in his ear. She needed him right now. She needed _Hope_ right now. That was what he did best.

“Asahina-san,” he said. He tried to keep the weariness out of his voice but he wasn’t sure if he succeeded. “Oogami-san would never blame you for what happened. And...neither do any of us.”

“B-B-But-”

“We don’t blame you,” Naegi said firmly. “You were upset and you didn’t want to face the truth, like any of us. Oogami-san’s death was unfair, but so was everyone else. Kuwata-kun...Fujisaki-kun...” he paused. His throat felt try. “...Maizono-san. All of them died, but... _we_ didn’t. We’re still alive to live and tell their stories. None of them blame us for what happened or how their trials went. I think...I think they’re just glad that we’re alive.”

Asahina choked. “But I could have gotten you _killed-”_

Naegi shushed her softly. He kept his voice soothing. “But you didn’t. And nobody holds a grudge against you for that. We all knew how much Oogami-san meant to you.”

Asahina sniffed loudly. “A-Are you sure...?”

“I’m sure,” Naegi said firmly. His words held so much weight, he realized. He was almost believing them himself. “You’re gonna be okay. After all...” He smiled a little, even though she couldn’t see. “We all accepted Fukawa-san for her other personality, didn’t we?”

Asahina laughed. It was thick with emotion. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She sniffed and Naegi imagined her rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve. “Th-Thanks Naegi-kun. You’re always saving me. Back at the final Trial and...now. I guess this is why you’re the Ultimate Hope, huh?”

Naegi felt a stab in his heart at the title. He wasn’t sure why. “Yeah.”

 

Kirigiri called Naegi finally around lunchtime the following day.

Naegi, who had been coaxed out of his bedroom by Komaru, nearly choked on his turkey sandwich. He hadn’t been eating much of it to begin with; just little bites here and there that he hardly chewed before swallowing, but it still was enough to make him cough and flail for his phone. He answered still spluttering for air.

“K-Kirigiri-san!” He said.

“Hello,” Kirigiri said. Her voice was low and tired. Had she just woken up? “What do you need?”

Naegi stood up, ignoring the confused look Komaru gave him and went to go pace in the living room. He relayed all that he’d learned yesterday to her; from the demolition of the building they’d been held hostage in to the reveal of another one of Enoshima’s lies. He failed to notice Komaru lurking near the door, listening to every word.

“That’s...troubling,” Kirigiri sounded far more awake. “If she did lie about how many memories she took from us...what else did she lie about?”

“I don’t know,” said Naegi. He wrapped his free arm around himself and paused in front of the TV. Everything felt wrong. His skin prickled. He tried not to notice the blood that was splattered across the wall at his left.

Kirigiri was silent for a lot longer than Naegi would have preferred. But when she next spoke, she asked a question so strange that he had to ask her to repeat herself.

“Do you know what the Hope’s Peak Reserve Course is?”

“Um...” Naegi wracked his brain for any mention of such a program. It wasn’t ringing any bells, not that he was surprised. “No? I don’t think so.”

“That’s not surprising,” there was a clacking noise in the background. Naegi closed his eyes to imagine Kirigiri sitting at a laptop, typing with one hand. “None of us had any knowledge of it, as it would be part of the memories Enoshima took.”

Naegi was silent. He tried as hard as he could for any inkling of memory of the Reserve Course, but there was nothing. He couldn’t help but be bitterly impressed with the work of the Ultimate Neurologist. He had done the job asked of him and he’d done it well.

“What is it?” He found himself asking.

“Apparently, it was a program started to help fund the school,” Kirigiri replied. “After Hope’s Peak started losing money, they decided to start accepting regular talentless students into the Academy. They put them in a seperate building and called the the ‘Reserve Course’. The entrance fees were so high, though, that very few families could afford it.”

Naegi’s throat felt dry. The thought of the Reserve Course had left a bad, twisting feeling in his stomach. He hadn’t heard of anything about it since they had escaped. Enoshima must have gotten her claws on it...somehow.

“What...happened to them?”

“They died,” Kirigiri said bluntly.

Makoto’s heart skipped a terrified beat. He felt like he’d been dunked in ice water. “What?”

“They all committed suicide,” Kirigiri said.

“What? Why?!”

“The official records say it was overwork and stress but...” Kirigiri’s voice went tight. Naegi imagined her with her lips pursed and hands twitching over the keyboard. “I can’t help but think that Enoshima had something to do with it.”

Naegi mulled the words over. It wasn’t too far-fetched to believe it. She had, after all, orchestrated a killing game with the intent to either plunge them or the entire world with them into despair. She must have had considerable influence in the academy to be able to pull that off, so Naegi could see her getting into the Reserve Course student’s heads like she did them - twisting and pulling until all that remained was despair.

“There was one survivor, though,” Kirigiri mentioned.

“There...was?”

“Yes,” Kirigiri told him. Naegi’s heart lurched at the familiar name. “Apparently a student that the academy tried to turn into Talent itself.”

Naegi swallowed.

His head felt like someone was tightening a band around it. Hope’s Peak, the school he had revered for years...had engaged in human experimentation? And even worse, they used a talentless student (just like _him)_ to do it.

He thought he might be sick.

 

The day of the memorial dedication was somber. Naegi sat in a chair in his best suit and tie bought just for the occasion, a crumpled speech in his hand and his shoulders slumped. He felt exhausted. He was too weary for this. He hadn’t even gotten a glimpse of the memorial yet and he - the Ultimate Hope - was due to dedicate it.

His classmates were giving speeches, too, of course. Detailing life inside the Academy, Enoshima’s lies, and the pressing need to understand just what had happened in those six months. Naegi tried not to look too hard at the memorial built on the grounds where his friends had died. It made him dizzy.

It made him think he could see the ghost of his friends, all hovering above the headstones dedicated in their names. Maizono watched him with a knife in her gut. Oogami coughed up blood that spilled from in-between her lips.

In the center, Enoshima beamed at him, waving dramatically.

Naegi’s stomach clenched.

His father set his hand on his shoulder. Naegi’s head jerked up to look at him and he nodded wordlessly at the podium. Kirigiri was stepping off. She gave Naegi a tight-lipped smile and went to go join her grandfather. She was the last of them to speak, ever professional and emotionless. Togami had been before her, all business and droning like he didn’t want to be there. But Naegi knew that he did. He knew that the memorial behind Togami affected him just as much as affected the rest of them.

Before him, Asahina, who had cried in the middle of her’s and had to step away to recollect herself. Hagakure’s speech was empty and clearly done last-minute, but his words were genuine. Fukawa’s was broken by stutters, but was written as eloquently as was expected of the Ultimate Writer.

Now it was his turn.

Naegi rose to his trembling legs. Whispers broke out among the assembled crowd (and _wow_ there was a lot of people) and Naegi took the stairs to the podium. Several city officials gave him what they must have thought were encouraging smiles. Naegi returned them out of politeness and turned to face the crowd.

They were looking at him expectantly. He had been the most talked about, the most revered. The Ultimate Hope, talked about across the world as the hero that had delivered the final blow to Enoshima Junko. Who had filled his friends with undeniable hope and had pushed them to victory.

But standing in front of the crowd, with a handwritten speech that had been crumpled and uncrumpled hundreds of times, Naegi didn’t feel like any of that.

He just felt like...him.

Like the ordinary boy that had walked into Hope’s Peak Academy all that time ago.

Naegi sucked in a breath through his teeth and closed his eyes. He had to steel himself. The world was expecting Hope and he had to deliver. He knew better than anyone how much weight his words would have here.

Naegi leaned into the microphone. “Good morn-” he was cut off by a terrible screech of feedback. Naegi’s heart pounded in his ears, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. The audience (even those way in the back) had clapped their hands to their ears. “Sorry,” he murmured.

“Keep going,” said a city council member behind him. Naegi obeyed.

“Today marks a month since the School Life of Mutual Killing,” the words burned Naegi’s tongue. A shiver ran up his spine. He felt eyes upon his back that were not the city council members’. “And it’s my duty as a survivor and...and...” he opened and closed his hands nervously on his podium. “And the Ultimate Hope to dedicate this but...if you’ll just allow me to say a few things first...”

There was a murmur of consent, even though Naegi didn’t need one. “I won’t lie to you. These past few weeks have been some of the hardest of my entire life. I’ve been plagued with nightmares, with memories, and given medication that I don’t even take half of the time. But...” he tried to focus on the sky. Think about how blue it was and how red it wasn’t. “Things are looking up for the better. The classmates that died in there are all watching over us. Helping us every step of the way to recovery. At least, that’s what I choose to believe.” Naegi bowed his head. He couldn’t tell if his eyes were wet or not. “We’re gonna be okay. Because I believe in us. We...as survivors and as people can move on. We as a population can overcome any despair that’s laid before us. Because...we all have hope, don’t we? And something like that...that doesn’t just go away.

“Hope moves forward,” he continued. “Hope doesn’t stop. It spreads from one of us to another. It lives in each and every person in the world. So long as we have hope...despair can’t touch us. We’ll be okay. _All_ of us.”

He paused. His voice felt thick. The crowd was deadly silent and Asahina was beaming at him from where she sat with the other survivors. They’d broken away from their families to find seats in the front row, where they were all clasping each other’s hands, unconsciously or not. The spot next to Kirigiri was empty. Naegi knew who it was for.

“I know as the Ultimate Hope, you are expecting me to dedicate this memorial to myself,” Naegi said. The words felt selfish, even though he didn’t mean them. “Or the Survivors as a whole but...I think I have something far more appropriate.

“I’m dedicating this memorial to the fallen,” he said. He felt the words wash over the crowd and felt his own throat tightening. “I’m dedicating this memorial to Kuwata-kun, to Maizono-san, to Ishimaru-kun, and to Fujisaki-kun. I want to dedicate it to Celeste-san and Oogami-san along with Oowada-kun and Yamada-kun. And...to Ikusaba-san too. I’m dedicating this memorial to their memory and the hope they all gave us to push us along through each and _every_ day.”

Naegi finally turned around to look at the memorial. There were nine polished granite headstones in total, each with a name, a date of birth and death, and a truly heartfelt things about them. Flower beds and benches surrounded it in a box. It was sealed off by a red ribbon Naegi knew he and the others were to cut.

Naegi turned back to the microphone. His smile felt real. “I dedicate this memorial to my friends,” he said. His throat felt tight. He knew it wasn’t the ending befitting a speech from someone christened with the title ‘Ultimate Hope’, but it would have to do. He stepped away from the podium to deafening applause, even if he didn’t feel like he earned it.

He sank down in the unoccupied spot next to Kirigiri.

He let his own words mull in his head. He'd said them time and time again, but never before had he believed them. 

Not until now.

_We'll be okay._

Kirigiri reached over to grip his hand. He turned his head to look at her. 

“You did good,” she murmured.

And that was enough for Naegi.

**Author's Note:**

> So I left a lot of things super open-ended, just in case there's a possibility that people want more of this. It was nice to write, and either way, I wouldn't mind expanding on it a little more! It'd have to wait until a little while later until I finish some other projects, it's just something that I had to get out into the world, haha. 
> 
> To be honest, Naegi is my favorite character and torturing him is both a blessing and a curse. I should write more Naegi-centric whump >:D 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this! Leave a comment or something if you did, I'd love to hear from you! <3


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